


You Inspired A Fire

by NBass



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF!Karen, BFF!Foggy, Bartender!Karen, Dancer!Karen, F/M, Frank Castle worships Karen, Protective!Frank, also, slight AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-29 15:08:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6381217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NBass/pseuds/NBass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karen moved to New York to be a dancer, but ended up becoming bartender part time. Frank is a broken man desperate to protect the good in this city. The Punisher is a necessary evil, especially when a new threat is on the horizon. Karen and Frank will need each other to piece this puzzle together or die trying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What Kind of Man

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fic. I love this ship like crazy and I desperately want to add to the amazing work already out there. This fic will include Matt and Foggy, instead of them giving Karen a job with them, she gets set up to work at Josie's. Thank you for reading! The rating is explicit for the language and eventual smut. Un-betaed all mistakes are my own. I do not own any of these characters!

The night air is heavy with heat as he walked down the street. No, that’s wrong, he prowled the streets in search of something. Frank Castle hasn’t been able to walk like a normal person for a while now. It was for the best really. He did what he did, so others could. They could walk the streets at night knowing someone was dealing with the criminals that swarmed the city. The grimy orange street lights flickered on and off as Frank stalked through the night. His work was done for tonight. Thanks to Red. Frank scoffed thinking about the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Turns out the Devil isn’t up for killing, which is fine for him, but he started to cramping on Frank’s style. What was the point in hunting down these people if they didn’t put them down for good?

Damn he needed a drink. When did his life become about the moral grey? Frank knew what _they_ called him. The name was one that was thrust upon him, but tell someone who they are enough times and they become it. He was the Punisher because that is what people wanted him to be. It was damn complicated and he needed to stop thinking for a god damned minute.

His eyes flicked down each dark alley, always looking for trouble. The shadows became his home, more comfortable than daylight. The bars were packed at this time of night. He looked down the street, looking for a smaller, out of the way place. _Josie’s_ stood in stark relief against the night. It would do. Frank pulled his cap down further to cover his face as he pulled open the door.

The place was loud with shouts and the smell of smoke choked the air. Frank felt at home instantly. In here, no one noticed anyone. He spotted an empty stool at the bar and started to push his way through the small crowd. He scanned the room automatically, looking for exits and hostile patrons. He reached the bar and sat on the scarred seat. A twinkling laugh behind the bar captured his attention. Frank raised his eyes and looked at the most odd thing.

In this run down bar, in a sketchy part of town, was one of the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen. She was laughing with a long-haired blonde male sitting a couple seats to the left of him. Her blonde hair bright even in the dark lighting of the bar, she had a slight frame, and a face like an angel. What the hell is she doing here? She started to wipe down the bar, still conversing with the other man. Her easy smile and soft voice captured his attention more than most things now a days. She leaned into the man, touching his arm. He smiled as he stood looking as if he were leaving. Frank’s suspicion was correct as he watched him walk out the door into the night, leaving the girl -woman- to clean the bar.

Frank cleared his throat and the woman flicked her eyes to him. She blinded him with a smile and walked over to him. Even her movements were pretty, the grace in her limbs and confidence in each step. She stopped in front of him. “Hi, what can I get for you?” she asked, hands fiddling with a dishrag.

“Ma’am”, he nodded. “I’ll take a whiskey on the rocks.” As soon as the words left Frank’s lips, her hands were in motion, reaching for a glass and a bottle. She didn’t even need to look at what she was doing, her comfort behind the bar apparent.

“Ma’am, that’s a new one. Most nights I get baby doll or sweetheart.”, she teased him. She placed the drink in front of him. Frank felt a smile tug on the corner of his mouth.

“Would you rather me use one of those?”, he asked as he lifted the glass to his lips. Damn, her blue eyes were crystal clear and seemed to see more than most. Her mouth twitched threatening a smile. Fuck, he could barely handle her gaze, a smile would most likely kill him. He hadn’t been around someone this pure for a long time now, it hurt to think exactly how long.

“Karen Page,” the woman stated, looking almost startled by her words, “just call me Karen.” With that she finally broke eye contact and cleared her throat. Her eyes darted away looking for something to do.

“Alright, Miss Page it is.” Frank took a sip of his drink, enjoying the burn down his throat. “Thank you for the drink.” He placed the glass down, fiddling with it. She nodded with a small smile and turned to help a new costumer. He glanced back around at the walls of the dingy bar. Karen Page, the name rolled around in his head as he looked down at his glass. The name fit the person and he doubted he would forget the name anytime soon. His hand flexes against the bar, his knuckled aching from the stretch. 

Frank had been after a man tonight, when Red showed up. The man’s name was Eric Montebello. He was a small time drug dealer and usually not the criminal The Punisher was after. Well, he was, till he started to ask around about pretty girls and how to buy them. Frank overheard him when stalking the streets and had started to plan his punishment. In the past month, whispers were starting about a new product being pushed in Hell’s Kitchen, this one being people. More specifically, women and girls from Europe. Someone was bringing them to New York, where they were being sold to rich assholes. Frank was trying to get some answers from Mr. Montebello, when Red showed up in his spandex suit. Red hadn’t cared what the man had done and tried to get him to drop him off at the closest station and call it a day. Now, Frank had been a military man and was used to orders but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let someone tell him how to live this life. The Punisher answered to no one but himself. While he didn’t get to kill the scumbag, he did get another name. James Berndic supposedly Eric’s boss and Frank planned on asking some questions soon.

“Get your damn hands off me or so help me God!” Frank was instantly out of his seat hands twitching for his gun. Karen was standing across from a greasy biker who looked to be about forty. His hand gripped her forearm tightly, pulling her toward him, as she tried to pull away.

“Pretty barbie doll got a big mouth on her.” the biker wheezed at his crew. The five others had crowded against the bar around Karen, eyeing her hungrily. Frank looked into her face and was surprised to see anger, instead of fear, burning in her eyes. The other patrons had either paused to watch what would happen or started to quietly filter out of the bar. Most people didn’t want to be apart of the ugly events that would most likely take place soon. Frank didn’t blame them, but he didn’t like it either.

Faster than Frank could believe, Karen pulled a bottle out from behind a counter and broke the damn thing against the man’s skull. In that instant, the bar burst into chaos. Karen was released and turned to run, but one of the biker gang grabbed her hair yanking her back  dragging her over the bar and onto the ground in front of Frank. He felt rage build in his gut as he reached for his gun. He let his anger fill him as he efficiently unloaded his gun into each of the six crew members. Karen had shrieked when the first shots rang out, but stopped when she realized they were not pointed at her. When the last noise faded, Frank looked down at her. 

She was curled up next to the bar, hands covering her ears. Her pretty blue eyes flicked up to meet his as he holstered his weapon. The bar was trashed and empty, except for the dead men and the two of them. In the distance, sirens started and Frank knew he only had minutes to clear out before the cops arrived. He looked down at Karen and knelt down slowly with his hands out, palms down to reach her level.

“Please,” she cried, tears falling down her cheeks, “Don’t hurt me. Please.” Her voice broke as she stared at him.

“Shhh. It’s okay, you’re safe, I won’t hurt you, I promise.” He softly spoke to her. The sirens wailing drew closer. “I need to get out of here. You need to come with me, those biker’s will have friends and their crew will come looking for you. Let me help you get home. Please.” Frank itched to just grab her and run. Time was running out, but this woman, she needed a little patience. She was owed that at least. Her eyes pierced through him as he knelt next to her waiting for her decision. She looked confused and unsure. “Please, let me help you.” He spoke once more, slowly reaching out one hand toward her. Karen’s eyes finally cleared as her decision was made. Her hand was soft and cool as she placed it in his warm calloused one. He pulled her up and tugged her toward the back entrance.

“Wait! My bag.” she yelled darting a hand behind the bar, grabbing a black backpack, shouldering it. Frank pulled her through the emergency exit and started running through back alleys and dark streets. The whole time Frank held her hand tightly. She kept up with his pace for a while, but eventually started to slow. Frank slowed their pace, till they stopped in a dark alley. Her cheeks were red from their run and sweat gathered on her brow. She still looked beautiful to him. Frank shook his head, he needed to focus, what was his next step?

“Where do you live?” He growled. He already put in this much effort to save her skinny ass, might as well make sure she makes it home alright. Not likely her home was safe either if she was working in some run-down bar.

“Excuse me?” she gasped out. She pulled herself to her full height and looked him straight in the eye. “Just because you saved me doesn’t mean I owe you anything. I could have handled it.” She glared at him with such passion that her words didn’t register for a moment. And then they did.

“What the hell? I know you don’t owe me anything. And I wouldn’t have expected _that_ in return. I just want to make sure you actually reach your apartment safely.” Frank glowered at her. He didn’t expect her words to hurt as much as they did. Her barely knew her, but her thinking he might force himself onto someone, it hurt him. He would never do that, and regularly put down those that did.

“Oh,” Karen breathed out. The fight seemed to leave her in one breath. Her shoulders drooped and she made herself seem smaller somehow. Her head bowed as she took a deep breath. “I only live a few blocks from here actually. You can walk me home if you want?” she spoke quietly fiddling with the straps of the backpack. She glanced up into his eyes and he felt himself soften. He slowly nodded his head and motioned for her to start walking.

They walked side by side on the deserted streets as dawn started to approach. Frank felt tiredness press down on his shoulders as he walked. His eyes still scanned the landscape looking for any threat. A small clinking sound drew his eyes to Karen’s hand. Her keys were placed between each finger in her fist. Instead of looking at him, she was searching the darken corners as well. Frank felt his mouth twitch for the second time tonight. She was a fighter that was for sure.

The silence that was between them was comfortable. They didn’t need to fill it and just felt the comfort from an others presence. Soon enough, Karen stopped in front of a broken down apartment building. The brown paint was chipped and the steps leading to the door were crooked and broken. He felt her gaze on him, it was so intense it almost felt like she was physically touching him. He turn to her and looked into her eyes.

“This is me.” she said. There was a pause as she looked as if she wished to say something else. She turned and walked up two of the steps then stopped. “What’s your name?” she asked turning slightly to look back at him. Frank reached up and adjusted his cap. He had hoped to avoid this question, but he wouldn’t lie, not to her.

“Frank Castle,” he sighed, “Just call me Frank.” He smiled, an actual smile, when he heard her disbelieving laugh. He glanced back up at her. She had a smile on her lips and she nodded.

“Good night Frank,” she called over her shoulder, “I’ll see you around.” He watched as  she unlocked the door and slipped through. She didn’t look back at him and he didn’t expect her to. 

Once he was sure she was safe in her building he started back toward his safe house. Before Karen’s building was out of sight he watching for a light signaling which room was hers. The fourth floor corner windows lights flicked on and Frank knew it was her, as her shadow passed the curtains. He continued onto his place. The condemned house he was using smelled and had plumbing issues, but It was good enough for him. Frank couldn’t help the thoughts of what _her_ apartment would looked like. How there would be touches of her personality and warmth there. He almost wished he could see it.


	2. A Change in Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karen goes on with her life, but not alone. Not really.

“Call me Frank.”

Karen sighed. What the hell happened? When did her life get so off track? She unlocked her door to her shoe box apartment. She dumped her bag onto the small table and her keys into the grey plastic bowl on top of it. She turned and locked the door, giving her a small sense of safety, well, as much as she could while living in New York. She flicked on her light and dropped into the lone chair next to the table and held her head in her hands.

Frank Castle.

Karen wasn’t stupid. She knew what that name implied. Did she believe it when he said it? She hummed as she pulled up her hair into a messy ponytail. Before she could answer her own damn question, a shrill sound pierced the air. Karen jumped slightly at the jarring noise. Her phone. She dug around and withdrew it. Foggy’s name flashed up at her and Karen sighed once again. This night is never going to end, she thought. 

She pressed the answer button and started to speak, “Hey, Foggy-”

“OH MY GOD! Karen are you okay? I was so worried when I got home and turned on the news and heard about what happened and you could have been hurt are you sure-?” Foggy rambled on. 

“Foggy! I’m fine. What are you talking about? The news?” Karen cut in. Foggy was a good friend, but was a worrier at heart. She couldn’t blame him, considering how they first met. Karen had just moved to Hell’s Kitchen two weeks before meeting them. She had a job as a secretary at some nice construction business uptown. One day she had worked up with a bloody knife and body next to her. She was soon arrested and had virtually no chance to escape a prison sentence. Then walked in Foggy and Matt. They were brilliant defense attorneys, who had taken her case pro bono. To this day she doesn’t know who set her up for that murder. Thankfully, Foggy and Matt had efficiently ruled Karen out as a suspect soon after their first meeting. Karen would forever be grateful to them and they were kind enough to set her up to work at one of their favorite bars, Josie’s. Since then, Foggy, had been as strong presence in her life and their friendship was something she cherished.

But, sometimes his worry and mothering felt smothering. Karen wasn’t a child and she knew how to take care of herself. Foggy was known to check up on her at work, like tonight. She was just glad he didn’t have to witness the bloodshed soon after he left. The man could only take so much before he had a heart attack.

“Yeah, Karen, the news where they report crimes that have taken place. Like the fact that six bikers were murdered at Josie’s an hour or so ago!” Foggy yelled. Karen winced and rubbed her head. She didn’t think it would get around that fast. She really didn’t need this right now.

“Yes, I know Foggy. I was there, but I’m fine. Really. Nothing to worry about.” Karen mumbled. It wasn’t like she could explain that yes she had seen the violence take place and oh I think The Punisher walked me home after, no worries. That shit wasn’t going to fly and she was just DONE with today. She glanced at the wall clock, 5:30 am. Shit, she had to get to the dance studio in a couple hours.

“Don’t worry, you telling me that really, Karen? Well, too late I am very worried! Are you still there? Do you need a ride home?” Foggy continued.

“No, no I’m home. One of my friends walked me home. I really should get some sleep before I head out to the studio.” Karen paused. “Thanks for caring so much Foggy, but really I’m fine and you need to get some sleep, you have work soon too.” She smiled thinking about Foggy and Matt’s office. It was a cramped place, but warm and inviting as the people working there. The two just wanted to help better the world any way they could.

“Alright, fine, I will let you go for now, but I want a text a day to make sure you are still alive, got it? You know they said it was The Punisher’s work. That crazy psychopath is on a streak.” said Foggy. He wasn’t wrong. The Punisher had been on everyone’s mind the last month or so. He had a reputation of killing slowly and painfully, but only those that deserved it. Karen and Foggy had been divided on the matter. They didn’t see eye to eye on it, but Foggy was right. Frank Castle aka The Punisher was a dangerous man. She had witnessed it herself after all.

“Well, I didn’t see anything, so don’t worry about it. Good night Foggy.” Karen ended the call on that note. She dropped her phone onto the table and stood. She was exhausted and had to get up in about four hours. She stripped as she walked to her bed, falling into it’s comforting embrace. She closed her eyes and for a moment saw Frank. Just Frank, standing at the base of her shitty apartment steps, waiting for her to enter her building. His tall frame covered by his long dark coat and topped with a damn baseball hat. Karen smiled to herself. For such a scary man, he seemed to care a lot about people. Or maybe, whispered a part of her brain, it’s just for you. She sighed once more and shoved that thought to the back of her mind, she would think about it later.

 

Sunlight streamed onto Karen’s face, when her alarm clock sounded. She slapped the annoying thing till it eventually shut up. Karen lifted her face to look at the time, 9:30 am. Karen groaned as she sat up feeling all the aches and a pounding headache. Had last night really happened? Was it all just a dream. She reached up to push her hair out of her face. She caught sight of a faint bruise on her forearm. So it was real, she thought to herself as she traced the light blue handprint. There was no way any makeup was going to cover that. Karen crawled out of her bed and stumbled into her bathroom. She turned on the water to let it heat up as she took stock of herself. She had the bruise and a couple cuts on her hands and knees from the glass bottle. She grinned thinking about the satisfying crash of the bottle against the asshole’s head. She wished there wasn’t a reason for it, but she was satisfied to know she could stand up for herself 

Steam filled the bathroom as Karen hopped into the shower. It was just under scalding hot and she hurriedly washed herself for her day. She stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her as she rushed to her closet. She dug around till she found a soft pink long sleeve shirt and a pair of semi-clean black leggings. She dressed, then quickly brushed her blond hair out and braided it. She stuffed her feet into some sneakers, grabbed her bag and a granola bar, and locked the door on her way out. Before she forgot, she sent a quick text to Foggy letting him know she was heading out.

Karen jogged down her apartment building steps while a flash of the night before entered her mind. She flushed as she thought about the man. Frank. How he had been patient for her after the gunfire and how he had stepped in the first place. When he had walked her home, she was beyond thankful and felt safer than she had for a long time. Karen dodged other pedestrians as she headed to her dance studio.

Dancing was why Karen was here in the first place. She had moved from her tiny ass hometown in Vermont to pursue her dreams of dancing with the pros in New York. When she had arrived she had realized how unlikely her dreams were to be true. Door after door slammed in her face. She was too tall, too bony, or too blonde, whatever that meant. It was crushing for her and a necessary reality check. Karen still loved to dance and went to a dance studio Monday through Thursday to train with others who wished to make it in the city. Her classes varied from ballet to jazz. If anything, dancing brought clarity to her mind. Sometimes she would only be able to think if her body was moving, fluid to a song. It was in her soul, imprinted on her spirit. 

The bartending gig was to pay for rent and give her something to do. After having a nice secretary job and seeing how that turned out, she didn’t mind the slightly seedier employment. Josie was a hard ass, but watched out for Karen. She taught her how to rack in the tips while staying safe. Most people that walked through the doors wanted a quiet night and maybe some companionship. Maybe that’s was he was looking for, her traitorous mind supplied. Karen shook her head. Karen knew these thoughts would plague her till she started moving.

She turned the corner and saw the brick building that felt like a second home to Karen. Downtown Dance Factory was an old building, the kind people said had ‘character’. She smiled as she pulled open the heavy wooden door. She slipped into the dark building. Her class was the first of the day so most of the lights were off till later in the afternoon. She strode into studio A1 and greeted the other twenty or so girls. Each was in a state of warming up. The room was spacious, with mirrors lining each wall and a bar on the left and right side of the room. The sound system was opposite the door and two girls were arguing over which song to play. Karen breathed in the sweat and smell of wax that permeated the air.

She dropped her bag by the others that lined the back wall and started to stretch on one of the bars. Her friend Suzy nodded back at her when Karen started stretching next to her. They both had shown up at the studio that same week and became fast friends, and one of the first things Karen learned was that Suzy was a bear in the mornings and patience was necessary. Karen touched her toes, letting her muscles relax and loosen with each movement. She felt a clam settle over her as she waited for her class to begin. She had something thoughts to work through today.

 

Karen pushed open the wooden door and stepped out into the early afternoon light. She felt a strong breeze pull some strands of her hair free. She swiped them behind her ear and started her trek home. Class had felt odd today. Karen had danced better than she had in days and felt relaxed beyond belief, but something felt different. A few of the regular the girls didn’t show for class. No one had know why they didn’t and hadn’t heard from them in a few days. It was entirely possible they were home nursing a hangover, but most times they would text their friends so they wouldn’t worry.

Karen paused. She felt eyes on her. She swear she could feel them searing a hole in her back. She hitched her backpack higher onto her back. It was probably nothing, she was just skittish since last night. She continuously scanned her surroundings and grasped her keys. If only he was here. What the hell? No, she didn’t need him. Frank. No, she could handle this like the adult she was. She walked past an alley and a hand grasped her arm and yanked her into the alley. Karen felt her lungs fill with air, about to scream when the person slapped their hand over her mouth.

“Hey, hey it’s okay.” The voice called. Karen looked and realized who she was talking to. The hand over her mouth was actually covered with a glove, a red glove. The glove matched the rest of the spandex suit and the helmet which sported actual little devil horns. It was Daredevil. I am losing it, she thought, I am imagining this right? As if to prove herself wrong he spoke again. “I just wanted to ask about last night. Josie’s. You were there and so was The Punisher.” He didn’t pose this information as a question, but as statement. He knew. “Tell me about what happened and I can help make sure you stay safe.” He removed his hand from her mouth but kept a firm grip on her arm.

Karen scoffed at him. Wanting information on The Punisher? She wishes she had any. “Look, I’m sure you have a good reason for asking, but I honestly don’t know anything.” She shook her head at him with a slight frown. “Why are you asking anyway?” she asked.

“He is a bad man. He killed six men last night and no one is sure why. He is off the deep end and needs to be brought to justice.” Daredevil pulled himself to his full height. Karen wasn’t impressed.

“Look, you want to know what happened?” she asked. He nodded, waiting for her to continue. “I was being roughed up by one of the guys and I started the fight. The Punisher just finished it his way.” Karen looked away, memories of gunshots and blood pooling on the floor next to her pulled at her. “I know it’s crazy, but I don’t think he’s that bad of a guy.”

Immediately, he grabbed her shoulders and shook her, trying to make a point. “That man is a trained killer and dangerous to himself and every citizen in this city. He murders people because he feels like it. He has no right to do what he does. Do you understand?” She numbingly nodded back. In her mind, she started yelling obscenities and questions at him, but in all honestly she can’t handle this right now. She only slept four hours last night and needs some real food and her bed before heading to work again. Shit do I even have a place to work now? 

Suddenly, the devil cocked his head to the side, looking like he's intensely listening to something. Karen pushed away from him and his arms fall back onto his sides. He turns back to her, “I have to go. Stay safe and stay away from The Punisher.” With that he runs deeper into the alley. Karen steps back onto the sidewalk and continues home. She needed to know what was going on. Who was The Punisher? What was he doing that pissed of Daredevil so much? 

Karen reached the steps to her apartment and walked up slowly. Each step felt heavier than the last. At last she was at her door, she pulled it open and stepped inside. She dumped everything onto her table. She took a step and realized something. There was a package on her table next to where she put her backpack. The yellow package had her name scribbled on it in neat chicken scratch. She opened it and pulled out a note and a can of pepper spray. 

 

Stay safe would ya? And for the love of God get a real lock.  
\- F

Karen smiled down at the note. He probably broke into her place to leave it there, but the thought filled her will warmth. She had someone looking out for her.


	3. Making a Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank gathers some important information. Karen and Frank talk it over coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: SOME SERIOUS VIOLENT GRAPHIC STUFF IN THIS CHAPTER, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. I wanted to dive deeper into Frank's mind and how he operates. I promise I will get the emotional Punisher story line explained soon. I'm also writing Matt as a dick because season 2 was basically him being a dick. If you want to visit my trash can my tumblr is nerdforthewin.tumblr.com. I will post when I update as well.

It was stupid and unnecessary. He should have left it alone. Why didn’t he? Frank scoffed was he prowled across the rooftops of Hell’s Kitchen. He knew why, he just didn’t want to admit it. Karen Page was a Good Person. There weren’t many around nowadays. He barely knew her, and yet, he instinctively knew. Frank had always been able to read people. This skill saved his ass more times than he could count. And his gut told him Karen Page was someone worth protecting.

Though for a man that wanted to keep her safe, maybe breaking into her apartment to leave a note sent the wrong message. The poor woman was probably terrified now. But what’s done is done, he couldn’t change it now. Then why couldn't he focus? He had his objective tonight, following the trafficking ring and the next stop was James Berndic. And yet she just keep slipping into his mind. Your getting soft Frank, he thought to himself. He shook his head in hope of dislodging these thoughts from his head. No luck. Frank sighed, Mr. Berndic was his target and his thoughts should be on how this was going to go down. He slowed to a stop. Here would have to do. He dropped his heavy bag against the low wall surrounding the roof top. Berndic was meeting with his other low lives to discuss their next shipment. Frank was going to stop by for a little chat is all.

The warehouse where the meeting was taking place was large, grey, and abandoned. Four other men would be showing up tonight, but none would be leaving. Berndic was already waiting, he was an average looking man, about 5’9 with brown hair and eyes. His nice blue suit a contrast to the shit hole they were meeting in. That was the problem with these guys. No one could tell they were part of this crap show unless they dug far enough. Luckily, this meant they were getting cocky. There were no guards posted to look out for men like Frank. Frank opened his bag and slowly started assembling his sniper rifle. Once the last man arrived, the meeting began, but it wouldn’t last for long. His first shot rang out and it was a head shot, clean through and through. The second and third men both were hit in the chest about two inches from their hearts. The fourth was a messy shot in the throat, where he would slowly choke to death on his own blood. Berndic stood in shock for exactly 30 seconds and then turned to run. Frank hit him in the right leg, enough to slow him down, but not to kill- not yet. The other man dropped with an anguished cry. It was goddamn music to Frank’s ears. He climbed down the building’s fire escape and headed over to have a one-on-one with the scumbag.

Frank strolled into the warehouse and watched the asshole try to crawl his way to safety. His heavy boots beat against the concrete like a war drum. The man was crying to himself and, by the looks of it, had actually pissed his pants at one point. A few strides later, Frank reached him. He grabbed the man and flipped him onto his back. The man shrieked as his back slapped the ground. Frank pressed his black boot into the mans chest to hold him down and shoved his rife into his face.

“Shut up.” Frank growled. Berndic immediately shut his mouth with an audible click. His eyes blown wide were filled with tears and snot dripping down his chin. How this man was in change of anything was beyond Frank. “Tell me about the girls.” The man shook his head slowly. “Good,” Frank ground out, “I was hoping you would do that.” Then Frank shifted and shot him in the other leg. A scream tore from Berndic as he tried to clutch his leg.

“Got anything to say now?” Frank asked, pressing harder onto his chest. His wheezing sobs became more distorted as Frank cut off his airway. The man nodded his head quickly and Frank eased up. He took gasping breathes as he stared up at Frank.

“What … do … you… want?” He panted up to Frank. Frank tilled his head at him.

“Where are the girls coming from? Whose in charge? And when is the next shipment?” Frank asked him. He didn’t have high hopes for most of these questions. These organizations worked on need to know basis and this man probably barely knew who his higher up was let alone how they operated.

“Look, I don't know much okay?” Mr. Berndic said. Frank raised his eyebrows and pushed down on his chest once again. “Shit, stop okay, stop! The next shipment is going to be late that’s why we were meeting.” Frank paused. That was odd. Most times these people worked like well oiled machines. They had to or else they were dead, it was a simple fact.

“Why? And who gave you that information? Hurry it up, I’m looking my patience.” Frank was using borrowed time. Soon the cops or Red would show up with questions and he didn’t want to deal with that tonight.

“Look, the guys who are suppose to watch over the shipment got shot up last night. Their gang is out for blood before they handle their business. They are delaying the whole damn operation.” Berndic said. Alarm bells went off in Frank’s head. No, there’s no way, he thought.

“What kind of gang? Who are they looking for?” He shifted his rifle closer to his eye. This seemed to encourage him to answer quickly.

“This biker gang called The Dogs of Hell. They were at some bar talking to a pretty blonde thing when her boyfriend shot them to hell. They want to get the girl and her boy, make them pay for making the Dogs look weak.” The words spilled out of the man almost running into each other. “I can help you, just plea-”

The shot cut off his desperate plea. Frank had what he needed and was going to get the hell outta dodge. 

 

It was only a matter of time before Red would come to chastise Frank. Still didn’t make it any better expecting the damn thing. He was only a few streets from the warehouse when Red found him. At least the roof tops offered some privacy to these lectures. There was only so much he was willing to live through.

“Frank, you can’t keep doing this. It’s wrong.” Ah, the age old beginning. He had heard the speech so many times he probably could have recited it by memory. Red folded his arms, look like a disappointed mother scolding her child. It was antagonizing as hell.

“Oh shut up Red. We already now how this argument is gonna end. Let’s just skip to the important part.” Frank dropped his bag and pulled up his fists. Words weren’t his strong suit- his hands, however, were.

“I don’t want to fight. I wanted to warn you to stay away from Karen Page.” Red shifted dropping his arms to his sides. Karen Page. She just wouldn’t leave him alone would she? Frank almost didn’t mind.

“Oh really? How do you know Miss Page? She your girlfriend or somthin’ ?” He asked. For whatever reason the thought bothered him. Red and Page. She was too good for him. Not that it was any of his business. Karen seemed like the girl that deserves the partner that would support her decisions, not make them for her. Like Red was doing right now.

“No s-she’s… a friend. I don’t want her getting hurt. People seem to get hurt when they hang around you.” Red finished. Frank tightened his fists. His words hurt because they were true. He failed those that he was suppose to protect. The ones closest to him suffered and died because he couldn’t save him. Now he was stuck, alone, trying to save an entire city.

“Look, she’s a grown adult, she can make her own decisions. I doubt she cares what I’m doing anyways.” Growled out Frank. It was none of his business what she did or who she was “friends” with. He still needed to talk to her tonight. She at least should know that she was in danger.

“Well, she can be too trusting too. I’m trying to protect her from all this,” he gestured to the city behind him, “the crime and pain. She has already seen too much.”

“At least we can agree on that.” Frank mumbled. Last night was probably on repeat in her head. One of Frank’s lesser moments, streaming constantly, causing her terror each time she relived it. She deserved better.

“I need to get going, but Frank please leave her out of whatever your dealing with. It’s for her own good.” With that Red hopped off their roof and ran off into the night. Frank sighed. The man was full of himself, with his religious ideals and controlling nature. He thought over there little conversation. Leave Karen Page alone? Nah, he didn’t take orders anymore.

 

Her lights were still on. It was nearly three am and her lights were on. He shook his head. He climbed up the fire escape up to her window. The thing was still unlatched even after his little visit earlier. Frank shook his head. She was gonna have to change her habits if she was going to live through the next couple weeks.

He slipped through the window into the dimly lit room. It was almost exactly as he last saw it. The small rickety table with one chair topped with a black plastic bowl. Her couch facing the window, where he stood, next to the small television set. Her bed was off to the left with currently unoccupied rumbled sheets. Her back was to him as she poured herself a cup of coffee in the kitchenette. The sweet smell floated through the air and brought a sense of comfort to him. Her blond hair fell in natural waves down her back. She was as beautiful as he remembered. He cleared his throat to get her attention. She yelped as she turned to face him, spilling coffee onto the floor in her haste.

“HOLY SHIT! What the hell! How did you get in here?” She yelled as she placed her mug back onto the small counter. Her blue eyes blazed with anger as she grabbed a nearby dishrag to clean up the coffee. 

“Ma’am, didn’t I tell you to get some real locks?” He asked raising one of his brows. He watched as she blushed while she knelt onto the floor. Damn, he should make her do that more.

“Yeah well I haven’t had a lot of time. And that still didn’t answer any of my questions!” She finished mopping up the coffee and dumped the rag into the sink. He felt another tick in his jaw, trying to keep from smiling. “Well, since your already here, want a cup?” She sighed. He nodded and fell into the single chair, watching her pull out another chipped mug for him.

“I take it black.” He muttered. She mumbled something along the lines of why am I not surprised under her breathe. She poured the cup and handed it over to him. He gently grasped the mug, careful to avoid her fingers. He instinctively didn’t want to dirty her with anything that might be on his hands.

“So, what are you doing in my apartment at three am?” She asked as she took a sip leaning back onto her counter. Considering Frank had broken in and was a know a serial killer, she seemed quite comfortable. A warm feeling filled his gut thinking about it. She was trusted him even after watching him murder six men.

He cleared his throat and took a sip from his mug. The bitter taste helped remind him why he was here. She was in danger. People were out to get her. What did she want to do about it? He placed his mug onto the table and turned to face her fully.

“I talked with some guys tonight,” He started. She scoffed at his word choice. “Long story short, the biker gang members that I killed have friends looking for us. Now it doesn’t bother me knowing someone is after me. You, on the other hand, need to up your security among other things.” Silence filled the air as she contemplated his words. She stared down at her cup, rubbing the rim.

“I’m not surprised really.” She took another drink from her mug. “The Dogs have always been protective of their own. I hoped though… ” She left the thought unfinished. Hoped they would let it go this time, he finished. “I can protect myself you know.” She said, suddenly staring intently at him.

“I don’t doubt you can kick some ass. But these guys, they will shoot you down before you know they’re coming.” He gripped his mug tightly thinking about it. “Let me help you. You can fix up your security and even have your vigilante boyfriend stay over. I’ll take care of it. It’s my fault they’re after you.” He glanced down to his hands. They were covered with dirt, specks of blood, and gun oil. They didn’t belong here, with her.

“Who the hell are you tal-” Karen started, “Wait! Do you mean Daredevil?” She asked him. He looked up at her and nodded. She startled him by laughing. Frank felt himself frown at her outburst. “I don’t even know who he is. He stopped by to tell me to stay away from you, but not much else. He is definitely not my boyfriend.” She sobered up quickly. “Why did you say that?”

Frank shifted in his seat, refusing to look her in the eye. Damn this was getting awkward, he thought. “He- er stopped by to chat tonight. He warned me to stay away from you. He said he cared about you so…” He left the thought lingering in the air. Now it was Karen’s turn to look uncomfortable.

“That’s- it’s- really fucking weird you guys are talking about me behind my back. And why are you guys making these decisions for me? I am an adult, I can take care of myself!” She burst out. Frank wasn’t surprised, he thought the same thing when he was with Red. “Look, you want to help out? Go after those guys, be my guest, but don’t assume I can’t handle myself. I will decide if I don’t want to see you or him, ca peshe?” Frank nodded, looking down at the mug. “Good. I, um, also wanted to thank you. For the pepper spray.” She stumbled over her words in embarrassment.

“It’s fine, I just wanted you to have something. I could teach you to shoot, but that takes time and lots of practice.” Frank stood up. He felt too comfortable here. He was getting too close, but it felt so natural. He reached into his coat pulling out a slip of paper. “Here is my number, it’s for emergencies. I’ll be back tomorrow to check in and update you alright?” She nodded back at him as she finished the last of her coffee. “Thanks for the coffee.”

With that he slipped back out the door heading for his shitty safe house. Each step took greater effort now that he know what her place looked like, smelled like, and what her company felt like. Frank wished he could have a home like that again, but that wasn’t who he was anymore. He was The Punisher and he would do well to remember that.


End file.
